


rivers and roads

by klantic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellamy Blake & Raven Reyes Friendship, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin Reunion, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers to Strangers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart, Inspired by the Odyssey, Post Season 4, Post-Praimfaya, The Radio (kinda) Works, the head and the heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klantic/pseuds/klantic
Summary: “Bellamy,” Raven said, tugging the book from his hands and setting it on the small table by his bed. “It IS her. She’s been messaging from the ground.“Clarke’s alive.”...OR: Clarke and Bellamy share a night in Becca's mansion before Praimfaya. He still goes up, she still gets left behind. Madi exists. Becho: yes but also no. Oh, and the radio sorta works.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 43
Kudos: 245





	1. Better Places

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: vomit, panic attack, suicidal thoughts, implied sex, language

_A year from now, we’ll all be gone,_

_All our friends will move away._

_And they’re going to better places,_

_But our friends will be gone away._

_\- The Head and the Heart_

_140 days after, The Ground_

Clarke dry heaved onto the sand. 

Nothing came up - which would be a good thing, considering she needed everything in her stomach to stay there in order for her to survive. It was more a reminder of how bad the situation actually was. 

It’d been months since _Praimfaya_ and the fated launch of Raven’s rocket. Months during which Clarke had cycled through every emotion imaginable, the most prevalent being an unbearable ache in her chest for a certain dark-haired man. She’d scrounged up protein snacks from Becca’s lab, treated the millions of boils on her skin with what was left of the antiseptic from her med kit, and opened the door.

 _“If the air’s toxic, we’re all dead anyway,”_ echoed soundlessly as she’d blinked back the stars in her eyes and shielded her face from the bright sun. Since that moment, she’d been surviving. Luck was on her side for some of that time. It tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at the tiny square of black peeking beneath the sand, gifting her the rover. Then, Luck took pity on her, shed tears in the form of rain and gave her drinking water for a few, precious days. Even now, it drew her gaze to the radio. 

“Bellamy.” Clarke’s arm shook with the effort to hold the button. “I don’t know if I can do this. The bunker’s buried, the storm took out the solar panels on the rover, and I’m a day from running out of food and water.” 

She paused, feeling her stomach pinch once more and swallowing the bile that rose like lava. “It’s horrible here. There’s just sand. No oceans, no trees, no life. Just...nothing.” Her eyes drooped with the wave of heat that washed over her body and seared into the cracks lining her lips. She ran her tongue along them, the relief lasting three seconds before evaporating. 

“I think if I were to die, I’d want to do it in my sleep, you know? I figure I’m owed peace in my final moments.” She gripped the staff she’d scavenged from the wreckage in Polis - from Lexa’s throne - and considered it warily. In her heat-addled mind, it morphed into something more technological, metallic. She shook her head and the staff snapped back to wood. She pressed the button again, “or maybe I don’t deserve that. Peace, I mean. I’ve done too many terrible things to deserve that.” She sighed, releasing the call button and shoving the radio back into her backpack. 

He never replied. No one did. But the potential of it all was the morsel of hope that she needed to continue.

She could hear herself scoff, _“You still have hope?”_

_“We’re still breathing.”_

Except her breaths came in low, rattling gasps through the thin cloth she’d wrapped around her head. The sandy landscape swam in front of her - orange and hazy yellow morphing like jam. It was so dizzying that she almost missed it.

A black shape hurtled from thin air in the corner of her vision. _What-_

Then she heard it, a bird’s cry. She shook her head, pinched her nose, and squeezed her eyes shut before turning around. And there it was: a huge black crow hopped on the ground just 5 feet from her, cocking its head and peering at her with beady eyes.

“Where are you from? How are you alive?” she whispered, shifting closer to it. The crow startled and took off. Clarke didn’t hesitate and sprinted up the sand drift it’d disappeared behind. Her heart pounded. She clawed up the remaining feet of sand and-

Desert. For miles. There was absolutely no sign of life anywhere.

Clarke let out an anguished scream.

“I’m DONE. DO YOU HEAR ME?” She sobbed to the sky. “I’VE. LOST. _EVERYTHING!_ My _friends_ , my _father_ , my _mother!_ I’ve got nothing left.” The oppressive heat made it so her voice didn’t travel, not that it would have mattered. There was no one. Clarke felt, for perhaps the first time since emerging from the bunker, true loneliness. 

It struck her hard, or maybe it was already there, a parasite growing in her chest. She gasped, breathing quickly and heavily. The pain consumed her, blocked her throat, and - had she any to spare - she felt the ghosts of tears prick the corners of her eyes. 

“I can’t, I can’t,” she gasped, clutching her heart. Slowly, she lowered herself to the sand and closed her eyes, willing it to be over. God, if only it could just end. 

Then, she remembered the gun. _It’d be faster, painless. Easier than falling asleep._ A wave of serenity washed over her as she acknowledged what she was about to do. Her breaths evened.

She let herself slide down the sandhill to her bag. She pulled the pistol from its spot by the radio, trembling. She cocked it and raised the barrel to her head, taking a deep breath. She thought of Bellamy, of his soft eyes and lips on hers. She closed her eyes.

_“Ai gonplei ste odon.”_

_10 days before, The Ground_

“You should go with her.” Roan and Bellamy stood at the back of the rover, watching the other three get the boat ready to sail to Becca’s island. Without turning to him, Bellamy spoke. 

“She’ll be fine. Besides, they need me back at Arkadia.” Roan chuckled humorlessly.

“Skaikru, like everyone, will die in ten days whether you are in Arkadia or not. Go with _Wanheda.”_ Bellamy crossed his arms and glanced sideways at the Azgedan king. Roan studied the boat, eyes narrowed.

“You can’t drive,” sighed Bellamy. He watched as Clarke heaved the last barrel of fuel onto the boat. She sensed his gaze and looked up, sending him a small smile.

“I’ve seen you drive enough to manage it. If I crash, we’re all dying-”

“Dying in ten days anyway. Yeah, I got it,” Bellamy huffed as Murphy started the motor. 

“Go. I trust Clarke - I don’t need to be here.”

“And I do?” Bellamy finally turned to Roan, searching him for a sign of brewing betrayal. There was none. 

“Roan! Time to go!” Clarke called. Roan looked him in the eye and nodded. 

“I’ll return the rover to your people. Go.” He reached out his arm and, after a moment of hesitation, Bellamy gripped it with his own.

“May we meet again.” Roan stared hard at him before letting go. Without looking back, Bellamy descended the beach to the boat. Clarke stopped him before he could hop on. 

“Why isn’t he coming?”

“He said he trusted you to do the right thing,” he shrugged and stepped away from her. She clenched his arm, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why aren’t you going back to Arkadia?” 

He looked away from her and out to the sea. The wind blew his hair away from his face and he suppressed a shiver. “I need to be here.”

“Bellamy, our people-”

“Will be fine,” he said, turning back to her. He met her eyes, imploring her to understand. They were so blue, so fierce - it was like looking into the sun. It was difficult to not look away. After a moment, she let go, sighing in resignation. They boarded together.

...

“There’s nothing for you to help with here,” said Abby, brushing Clarke’s hair aside. They’d arrived on the island only to find everyone in limbo, awaiting the samples. Bellamy leaned on the railing at the bottom of the stairs, trying and failing to look like he wasn’t paying attention to Clarke and her mom’s reunion. 

“Go, both of you. Take showers, eat, and we’ll figure this out when you get back.” Abby tilted her head towards Bellamy and smiled encouragingly at Clarke.

“Okay.” 

...

Becca’s house was the most extravagant place Bellamy had ever been. Everything looked like a picture out of a movie or a book. It was unlike anything else on earth that he’d seen. Mount Weather couldn’t even hold a flame to this. It was everything his younger self hated about the world. His current self, however, couldn’t give a fuck. It’d be blown up in ten days just like the rest of the world.

Murphy and Emori were cooking. He offered something to Clarke, who exclaimed praise upon tasting whatever it was.

“Shower’s upstairs. Down the hall,” Bellamy didn’t miss the wink Murphy gave to Clarke. “Help yourselves.” He _definitely_ didn’t miss the way Clarke’s face went red as she mumbled thanks. 

...

The bed was huge. Like big enough to fit five people, let alone two, huge. Beside him, Clarke had frozen as well. Bellamy let out a breath and nudged her shoulder with his own.

“If only the Ark had dropped us here.” Clarke noticeably relaxed beside him and laughed.

“Right, because the AI who destroyed the world is so much better than Mountain Men and homicidal grounders.” Bellamy mentally smacked himself.

“I forgot this was where Jaha found her.” Clarke snorted and moved into the room. He watched as she trailed her hand on the soft covers of the bed. Something warm stirred in his chest.

“I figured,” she said nonchalantly, gazing around the room. Bellamy saw the bathroom right as she did.

“You can go-”

“Go ahead-” They looked at each other and laughed. Bellamy jerked his head, “Go. I’ll wash up after you.” She grinned and nodded in thanks before walking in and closing the door behind her. 

...

The shower felt like heaven; though Clarke knew it couldn’t be, seeing as she was going to hell. She sighed with happiness, massaging the lavender scented soap into the tangled mess she called her hair. Clumps of mud and leaves trickled to the floor. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cleaned herself - so much had happened recently that she hadn’t bothered to care. She felt a twinge of embarrassment as thoughts of the long road trips with Bellamy flitted across her mind. 

As she let the water run, she thought more about her co-leader. Her memory forgot nothing. She remembered seeing him for the first time, hair slicked back and so, so arrogant. Remembered forgiving him after Dax. Remembered Charlotte and Atom. Shutting the dropship door, seeing him for the first time after that - sprinting to him and feeling _right_ again when he hugged her back, hard. 

But she left. She ruined what was right with him. No matter what she did or what he said, she couldn’t take back the fact that she’d left him. 

Back on that beach, before discovering Luna’s rig, Clarke had told him that they’d be able to get through everything as long as they were together. _It wasn’t Bellamy who needed to hear that,_ she realized. 

She didn’t notice she was crying until she turned the water off. She let herself slide to the floor, pressing her palms to her eyelids. She’d been the one to hurt them _every time._ She shut the door. She sent him into Mount Weather. She didn’t tell Octavia to get out of TonDC. _She_ left _him_ . He helped her pull that _damn_ lever and she still fucking left him. Everything he’d done since was a reaction to her. Those deaths were on her too.

Distantly, she heard a knock on the bathroom door. Bellamy’s low voice called hesitantly from the other side. 

“Clarke? You okay?” She couldn’t move from her spot on the floor of the shower. She heard the door open and Bellamy entered cautiously. He didn’t look her way, but she knew he knew where she was.

“Bellamy?” she croaked. “I killed them, didn’t I? That Trikru army?”

“What- Clarke, no,” he sounded confused and sad and angry - she knew he felt all three and then some. Because she knew him. “What’s this about?”

“I left you,” she whispered. Another tear trickled down her cheek. “It wouldn’t have happened if I’d stayed.” To that, he was silent. Then:

“I killed those people Clarke, not you. I made that choice. And I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life,” his tone was hard, final. “You don’t get to bear that for me.”

“I’m sorry I left.”

“I know.” On the other side of the frosted glass of the shower walls, she saw his silhouette sit and put a hand to the door. On her side, she placed her own against his. They stayed there, quiet, for some time. It was Bellamy who broke the silence.

“Jeez, how long does a princess need to shower?” She scoffed, but couldn’t help but grin at the old nickname.

...

The bed was as soft as it looked. Clarke’s eyes drooped as soon as her back hit the mattress. She felt the bed tilt as Bellamy laid down on his half. She heard his contented sigh and smiled.

“What’s one thing you want to do before you die?” asked Bellamy. She tried to hide her surprise at his question.

“You mean...like within the next week?” She turned over and studied his profile, which remained carefully neutral as he stared up at the ceiling.

“No, more...” he paused, “if we weren’t _us_ and Earth wasn’t like _this._ ” She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she and Bellamy were just one foot apart on a _very_ comfortable bed. It was at that moment that she realized that 1) it didn’t matter whether his stupid scenario was real or not, and 2) in either world, she’d want to be here with him, in this moment. She felt her heartbeat flutter. 

Seemingly unaware of this epiphany she was having, Bellamy turned on his side to face her. She physically felt the heat rushing to her face as she took in his freckles and his eyebrows and the tiny scar above his lip. Her eyes roamed his face hungrily before settling on his eyes. Warm and rich like tea, they held her in place. He blinked and his expression became unreadable. 

“I’d want to be here.” Unable to come up with anything remotely creative in her current state, Clarke opted for honesty. Her eyes dropped to his neck, where his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Clarke…” he rasped, his voice low and soft. She looked up, but his gaze was no longer there. Instead, his lashes fluttered to her lips. Clarke gently pushed herself closer to him, eyeing him for any indication that he was opposed to what she was going to do. A breath’s width away, she stopped, waiting. It was Bellamy who closed the gap.

Her lips fell comfortably onto his and she felt pleasure spread across her chest. He nodded his head with hers as they explored this newness. She grabbed his bottom lip with her teeth and used her tongue to sooth the spot. This seemed to be Bellamy Blake’s undoing.

He moaned into her mouth and if the kiss before was sweet and tender, this was passionate and free. Her hands moved up into his hair, massaging his curls frantically, as if she’d never feel them again. 

Their clothes disappeared and, after staring fondly at the other, Clarke let him lower her beneath him. The look he gave her was searing as she pulled his face back to hers. He scattered kisses down her neck and pleasure pooled in her stomach.

Eventually, when the pleasure reached a crescendo, they saw stars. 

_140 days after, The Ground_

_“Ai gonplei ste odon.”_

Clarke’s finger was hovering over the trigger when she felt it.

Something lurched in her stomach. She sucked in a breath and opened her eyes, peering down. She felt it again.

Clarke lowered the gun.

Her mind went into doctor mode. How long had it been since her last cycle? When had she last had…? Horrific realization dawned on her.

She’d assumed her stomach was distended from a lack of food and water. And the nausea she’d attributed to radiation poisoning. Never had she considered _this._

She was pregnant. 


	2. Guess It’s Just as Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: language, pregnancy, hallucinations, implied sex, all the nastiness that comes with birthing a human

_Nothing is as it has been,_

_And I miss your face like hell,_

_And I guess it’s just as well,_

_But I miss your face like hell._

_\- The Head and the Heart_

_143 days after, Eden_

Clarke was certain _Praimfaya_ had destroyed everything on Earth except the valley. At this point, she was pretty sure Luck was her guardian angel. 

She’d found food in the form of that stupid crow that led her the wrong direction and found a trickling creek not far from the edge of the valley to wash up. She stayed there for three whole days before picking up and moving further into the dense forest. She walked aimlessly, not really caring where she ended up or when she’d stop. 

It was odd, not operating on a time crunch. Clarke’s heart hadn’t quite caught up with her head yet and the residual stress of the past two years lived on. Since landing on Earth, there had been danger - getting food and water after landing on the wrong damn mountain, saving her friends from Mount Weather, defeating ALIE, _Praimfaya…_ It’d take years to work that survival mentality out of her system.

_“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things.”_

But she didn’t know who she was when she wasn’t surviving. She wasn’t that same girl who played chess with Wells or earned top marks in all her classes. She was _Wanheda,_ commander of death. _But what does the commander of death do when everyone else is dead?_

“Jeez, Clarke, lighten up.”

She spun around, gun already out of its holster, and pointed at the last person she ever expected to see again.

_“Wells?”_

“Present,” he grinned, pocketing his hands. He looked... _alive._ He wore the same outfit he’d come down in - blue jacket, tan shirt, and black pants - except they weren’t covered in dirt and grime. In fact, every part of him looked clean. 

“I’m hallucinating,” realized Clarke. With one more glance at her old friend, she turned around and began walking again.

“So, it’s been awhile,” said Wells, trailing her.

“You’re dead, Wells.” Her voice was stern, emotionless. She focused on her hike, careful not to look back.

“True, but I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You’re just some trip. I- I must’ve eaten a Jobi nut or something-”

“Why does that equate to this not being real?” Clarke stopped and glared at him. It was so hard to look at him. Her earliest friend - he didn’t deserve what the ground did to him.

“Because it _can’t_ be real! This isn’t right. I already have to spend the next five years alone - I don’t want to be seeing dead people or, or talking to pine cones when-” she stopped.

“When he comes back, you mean?” She swallowed. “How’d that happen by the way? Bellamy was a total dick last time I checked.” They started hiking again. _Might as well go crazy, there’s nothing better to do._

“We grew up.”

“And fell in love?”

“Not really,” scoffed Clarke, shaking her head ruefully. “Friends. Who hooked up once.”

“Right. Okay.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just wondering why you won’t tell me - the person who risked his life to get on the dropship for you, your oldest friend - the truth. But whatever.” He looked up at the canopy and sky. “This is nice, don’t you think? This place?”

“Wells. I’m not in love with him.” He started whistling, ignoring her. She rolled her eyes and pushed aside a branch in her path. “You’re infuriating.”

“You love me anyway,” Wells said happily. Clarke softened.

“Yes. I do.” She could practically hear him smile beside her before sobering.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Didn’t you just try to get me to talk about it?”

“No, not that- well, kind of that but not really. You’re pregnant.”

“Thanks, Wells, I had no idea.”

“To be fair, you didn’t know for almost three months, so…” She reached out to shove him and instead ended up tilting into the trunk of a tree, Wells laughing behind her.

“Go float yourself.”

“Seriously, Clarke. What’re you gon-” Clarke gasped and stopped at the edge of the treeline. Before her lay a meadow, and in the meadow-

 _“Houses,”_ she breathed. A smattering of wooden houses decorated the clearing. From her vantage point, she could make out dyed fabrics floating in the warm breeze. It took her a second to realize that there was no sound beside the rustling of the leaves and occasional chirp of a bird. After a second of listening, she figured it was safe to continue on.

Wells was gone. She’d known he wasn’t real, but couldn’t help but feel an uncomfortable twinge in her chest at the renewed loneliness.

The houses were more beautiful up close - the colored fabrics had begun to fade from sun exposure and decorated everything from half-filled, abandoned clothes lines to roofs to the tables scattered on the varying paths. Stained glass hangings spun lazily and threw balls of multi-colored afternoon light everywhere they touched. This was not a place of survival - people had _lived_ here. 

_But where did they go?_ Clarke wondered. Then, she saw him. 

A small boy sat on the porch of one of the larger buildings, chin tucked into his chest. Clarke knew before she reached him that he was gone. She slowed and stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking as it took on her weight. He must’ve been five or six years old when the death wave hit. Clarke put a hand to her stomach absentmindedly.

The door to the building was locked. A second and a kick later, it wasn’t. She smelled them before she saw them.

The room was filled with what she could only assume were the citizens of the village. Men, women, and children lay across every surface. _Praimfaya_ may have skipped over the valley, but the radiation didn’t. Clarke held back a sob.

That night, she burned each body she could find. 

_“Yu gonplei ste odon.”_ She watched as the smoke reached for the sky, disappearing into the stars above.

  
  


_50 days after, The Ring_

He cradled her head, rubbing his thumb along her jawline, and lowered her slowly to the bed.

“So beautiful…” he murmured in her ear and trailed kisses down her neck. She whimpered.

“Bellamy-”

“Wanted this for so,” _kiss,_ “long.” She moaned as he brushed a hand over her breasts, followed by his mouth. “I love you,” _kiss,_ “Clarke,” he sighed her name and moved up to press his lips to hers. Before he could, his eyes fluttered open and he stopped abruptly in horror.

Her once clean, smooth skin was covered in orange burns that worsened each second he looked at her. She started coughing and ebony blood splattered on the ivory sheets of the bed. 

_“Bellamy-”_ she choked, blue eyes wide with fear. “I don’t want to die-”

“Fuck- I don’t know what’s happening- No, please-”

“Why are you leaving?” her voice became panicked as Bellamy felt himself get up from the bed. “Please don’t leave me-”

“I can’t stop. Clarke, I swear- _I can’t stop!”_ he yelled desperately, but his feet had a mind of their own, walking further and further from her cries of _“Don’t leave me!”_ A roar of wind and heat filled his senses, blocking out all other thoughts.

...

_“Clarke!”_ he gasped and sat up straight, his gray shirt soaked with sweat. He looked wildly around the room for her before registering where he was. Metal walls surrounded him, filled only with the droning of the Ark. 

Space. End of the world. Right.

_No Clarke._

Every time he forgot, remembering gutted him with more fervor. He leaned over the side of his bed to face the bin he’d put there the night before and threw up yesterday’s algae and water. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and laid his head back on the bed. 

Fifty days had passed since he left her. Each one was harder than the last.

_200 days after, Eden_

Clarke met Madi roughly two months after finding the village. 

She’d been washing up in a lake near where she was sleeping, her stomach now showing clear evidence of the life forming inside. She didn’t bother wearing clothes - why would she? - and relished the cool water on her tanned skin. Usually, she would stay until her fingers showed signs of pruning.

The person sitting on a rock ten meters away, staring at her, warranted an earlier departure. 

“Hello,” said Clarke, eyes wide. The person - a child - started at her voice, but didn’t move. Clarke couldn’t make out what the child actually looked like: mud, twigs, and scrapes covered them, as well as a worn dress. Slowly, they pointed one grubby finger at their stomach and then at Clarke. 

_“Nomon?”_ Trig, they knew trig. They wanted to know if Clarke was a mother. She nodded. 

_“Yu laik natblida?”_ This seemed to be the wrong question to ask. The child’s eyes went wide with fear and they backed up the boulder in panic. 

Clarke held up her hands, _“Ai laik natblida!”_ she reached for a sharp rock. _“Ai op.”_ She slit the palm of her right hand and squeezed. Black blood trickled down her arm and dripped into the lake. The child stopped retreating and watched. _“Ai laik Klark.”_

 _“Ai laik Madi.”_ She gave Clarke a timid smile. Clarke returned it.

_Two kids. Why not._

_290 days after, Eden_

“Shit, shit, shit,” Clarke groaned, lowering herself to the floor. Madi was still gone on her daily rendezvous and wouldn’t be back for hours. She’d have to do this alone.

She made a mental list of everything she’d learned about delivery from her brief time working the clinic on the Ark. Time the contractions, sit up or stand up and let gravity do the work, don’t pass out. Water could be used to deliver alone. _Water_ \- she needed to get to water. She pushed herself to her feet.

“AGH!” she cried as she felt another painful jolt. The time between contractions was growing shorter, she was sure of it. But without someone else there, she couldn’t see how far she was. She panted, stepping out of their cabin, and headed for the water basin at the edge of the village. Something bulky sat on the outdoor table. The radio. 

“Bellamy, if you can hear me, fuck you,” she huffed humorlessly, grimacing and managing to groan out, “I know I said I was proud of you for leaving and I’m - _agh_ \- happy you’re alive and all that, but - _AGH! GOD!_ \- a fucking _person_ is trying to come out of me right now because of you so - _ow FUCK!_ \- go fucking float yourself.” The pain consumed her and all of her strength shot downward. Sweat beaded into her lashes so she could barely see. 

She stumbled to the basin and heaved her body gracelessly into the cool water, panting.

“C’mon Clarke,” she heard a familiar, deep voice growl from above. She looked up hazily. He was there, just as Wells had been. He looked exactly as he had on that day - his curls falling in lawless waves, eyes intense. He was handsome and frustrated and looked like he wanted her to- “Push!” he urged, _“Push,_ dammit!”

 _I am,_ she tried to say _. So tired._

“Fight, Princess. You’re gonna just give up? Like hell you are.”

“I _can’t,”_ she grunted.

“You have to, Clarke. Only choice, remember? C’mon…” Clarke held her breath and squeezed her abdominal muscles, screaming. She panted, counting to three, before squeezing again. _Push! Push! C’mon Clarke!_ She screamed again, louder. 

The pain was unbearable. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Her vision went momentarily red. All of the sounds - Bellamy’s shouting, her own screams - faded briefly to a high pitched ringing. For a few, precious moments, all the pain left her body and she was floating. She was floating among the stars, weightless and free.

The shrill ringing shifted in tone, washing in and out like waves on a shore. In and out, louder and louder, until she crashed back into reality.

Clarke coughed up water and sat up straight. Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, taking in the silhouettes of the trees above her and then down to the murky water of the tub. The water...was red? A dull ache throbbed from below. _The water’s r-...did I just have a baby?_

_...Where the fuck is my baby?_

She frantically ran her hands through the water, but there was nothing there but blood and...other unsavory things she did _not_ want to think about right now. Shit, even the umbilical cord was missing. _How did I lose my kid within literal seconds after having it?_

She stood up and instantly regretted it, breath hissing from the pain between her legs. But the determination of finding her child took precedence. The world caught up to her, other senses returning. The high pitched sound was no longer monotonous - it was a cry. Her heart sped up as she limped around the cabin.

There, at the center table and holding a whimpering newborn, was Madi. Clarke almost cried in relief. 

“ _Klark!”_ trilled Madi, beaming. _“Ai don hon yo op en ai sis em ou!”_ She must’ve heard the screams and ran to help. Clarke grinned and hobbled over to the table.

“Thank you, my brave _natblida. Yu kep osir klin.”_ You saved us. Madi gently handed Clarke the bundle and the world froze again, this time in bliss, not pain. 

The baby, _her_ baby, looked up at her with big brown eyes. Clarke couldn’t stop the tears as she laughed thickly. Those were Bellamy’s eyes staring back at her. Peace settled over her like gossamer. Every horrible thing she did, _he_ did, had led her here, to their child. She still couldn’t say it was worth it, but she could finally let it go. 

_“You know, you’re not the only one trying to forgive yourself. Maybe you’ll get that someday.”_ When she’d said those words to Bellamy on Luna’s beach, she never thought that she would be the one to get it someday. She always believed she could never deserve it, no matter what she did, no matter who she saved. She would always bear it, bear _them._

But as her baby blinked up at her, Clarke’s whole world flipped. She didn’t have to bear it anymore. Because it wasn’t about her anymore. Her story was branching outward and onward. She was no longer _Wanheda_ \- how could she be, when she’d just given life? And she was no longer living for herself. She was living for this. Her child. 

She could finally forgive herself.

“Hi there, little one,” she whispered, smiling.

“ _Klark_ , why crying?” Madi’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

“I’m happy, Madi. I’m crying because I love you and I love…” Clarke peeled back the blanket, noting the clean cut of the umbilical cord, “her. I love her. And I’m so happy.”

She reached for Madi’s hand and squeezed it, sobbing and smiling at the same time.

“I’m so happy.”

  
  



	3. What to Make of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's! I finished this chapter early so here's a 2021 gift for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: language

_Been talkin’ bout the way things change,_

_And my family lives in a different state._

_If you don’t know what to make of this,_

_Then we will not relate._

_\- The Head and the Heart_

_290 days after, The Ring_

_“-she’s beautiful, just like her-”_ loud static filled the speakers and a swear came from the depths of the tech-filled room. Raven Reyes wiped her brow and resisted the urge to pump her fist in the air. As soon as it happened, the static went silent. It was too soon to tell if what she was hearing was coming from the ground. 

She twisted another wire and the voice returned, this time clearer, _“-brown eyes and her nose is really small, like a berry. You would love her. And I’ve only known her for a whole ten minutes,”_ a chuckle emanated from the radio, _“but she’d love you too.”_ There was a click as the speaker ended the call and Raven’s heart pounded in her ears. 

_That sounded like...but it couldn’t be? Right?_

Static returned and Raven made to twist another wire, when the voice whispered, _“I wish you were here, Bellamy. I miss you. So much.”_ Another click. 

Raven sat and stared at the speaker with wide eyes and an open mouth. She couldn’t process it. She had to be hallucinating. Of all the crazy shit that had happened to her, for some reason, this was the topper. There was just no way _Clarke -_ she swallowed thickly. _Clarke can’t be alive._

But the undeniable proof lay in front of her. She’d heard it - the throaty voice could belong to no other. It was her, the woman they’d left behind on a burning planet. The woman who’d risked - and had been thought to have given - her life to make sure they could access the Ark. The woman they had all mourned for the past eight months, Bellamy most of all.

_Bellamy._

God, what was she going to say to him? That the woman they had basically left to die was alive and alone on a radiation-plagued Earth? It was the truth, but what if Clarke died tomorrow, or the next? That would send him into another spiral, one he might not be able to recover from this time.

No, she needed to gather more evidence, get a feel for Clarke’s situation on the ground before ripping off the bandage. She wouldn’t tell anyone until she was certain things were stable. She also needed to figure out how to get a message back to Clarke - it seemed the Ark was able to receive transmissions but not deliver them. That could be an issue.

_For now, though, I’ll wait._

It turned out that she didn’t have to wait long. Clarke called every day around the same time. The calls varied from mundane information about her day, to reminiscing on memories from their past, to talking about her companions. Raven gathered that Clarke had found the one green patch in the world and was comfortable and well-fed. She’d also learned that Clarke had found two other people that survived as she had. A girl named Madi - she was older, maybe seven or eight - and a baby named Penelope. 

Clarke’s voice became something of a ritual for Raven, soothing and reassuring of life and love. While grateful for her newfound family upon the Ark, she found herself thinking wistfully of Clarke’s description of the sparkling lake she and Madi found, or the red berries they used to dye strands of their hair and ate between applications. 

Each call began the same: _“Hi Bellamy…”_ And every time, the weight in Raven’s chest grew. She knew she needed to tell them. It was selfish of her to withhold this information. It was clear that Clarke wasn’t in any immediate danger and would most likely be alive and well by the time they all returned in four years. She told herself it was complicated.

Raven was running through fuel levels for the four hundredth time when Clarke’s voice rattled from the speaker. 

_“Hey Bellamy. It’s been 400 days since you left, so I figured I should do a general summary of what’s been happening since day 300.”_ Raven immediately paused in her work and leaned back in her chair. 

“ _Madi and I have claimed a cabin in the village as our own. We have two beds, one for Penelope and me, one for Madi. She’s warming up to me more, and she adores Nell. Who couldn’t though? Nell’s a few months old now and has so much hair. I thought at first that she inherited your and Octavia’s dark hair, but I swear it’s becoming blonder everyday. My mom told me a long time ago about how my hair did the same when I was younger. Can you picture me as a brunette?”_ Raven held a hand over her grin, eyes shining.

_“She’s exhausting. Madi’s been helping a bit, but she’s just a kid. I’m tired all the time, but I’m happy, I think. It’s the first time on the ground where I haven’t worried about what I’m going to eat or if someone’s gonna cut my head off. It’s...peaceful. Good. It’d be better if you all were here though.”_

The speaker clicked, meaning Clarke released the button. Then clicked again.

 _“Oh! One more thing! Nell said her first word today! I’m a little pissed off that it wasn’t ‘mama’ since I’m the one who is fucking raising her, but, here,”_ Raven had to strain to hear Clarke’s muffled voice urging Penelope to speak. _“Okay here she is. Nell can you say da-da? Dad? Da-da? Just like before.”_

There was a high pitched squeal of laughter and then, clear as day, _“Da-da, da-da!”_

 _“Did you hear that? She’s never even met you, but somehow that’s the first word she learns. You’re a rebel, aren’t you?”_ Some more giggles. _“Anyway, that’s really all that’s been happening for the last hundred days. How are you? How’s Monty’s algae? Has anyone tried to kill Murphy yet? Anyway...I hope you’re doing okay. We’re still breathing and all that. I miss you. Griffin out.”_

Raven let out a breath of air she didn’t know she’d been holding, and laughed incredulously. 

“Well, shit.”

...

“Bellamy, can we talk?” He looked up from his book and studied her, eyes as empty as they were on day 1. Purple crecents hung beneath them. When was the last time he slept? Raven wrinkled her nose: his room smelled distinctly of body odor and dust. 

He nodded mutely. She approached his bed and sat down at his feet, looking anywhere but at his face. “Um, what are you reading?”

He held it up so she could see the cover - _The Odyssey._ She shrugged - she’d never read it. “What did you want to talk about?” He sounded resigned, uninterested. She swallowed.

“It’s about Clarke,” she began, slowly. He froze. “Recently, I’ve been working at getting communications functioning again and a couple months ago, well, I think you should come with me.” 

It was an unspoken rule among the others to never bring up _her_ around him. It never ended well for either party, if the dent in the kitchen wall was any evidence.

“What about her?” He managed. 

“Just...trust me okay?”

“No. I-I just can’t. Not with this. What’s this got to do with her?”

“Bellamy,” she said, tugging the book from his hands and setting it on the small table by his bed. “It _is_ her. She’s been messaging from the ground.

“Clarke’s alive.”

…

Raven rubbed her arms, staring hard at the speaker as if willing Clarke to pick up the radio. “She usually calls around this time, I don’t know what’s taking her so long.” 

Bellamy merely grunted, head in his palms as he sat on the only chair in the room. It was just them - Bellamy had refused to waste any time in telling the others before he heard the truth for himself. 

“I’m sure she’s-” Static emitted from the radio and Raven’s heart leapt. But it wasn’t Clarke’s voice that came out this time.

 _“Hello? Belomi? Can you hear? Ai laik Madi-”_ The radio clicked and there was silence. Bellamy’s head was out of his hands and his eyes were set intensely on the radio.

 _“Hey, Bellamy, sorry about that. Madi found my radio and I guess decided it was a good time to practice her English on someone other than me and Nell!”_ Bellamy gave a sharp intake of breath. Raven felt her eyes mist up. She grinned.

 _“Anyway, I don’t have a lot of time to talk today. Madi and I need to fish before it gets dark so we have dinner. Plus I told her the story of Octavia and the water snake last night so I think she secretly wants to find one and fight it like her. She says Octavia’s her favorite. I think it’s because they both grew up hiding from the world. I’ll keep you updated on whether any giant snakes survived the apocalypse. I miss you. Griffin out.”_ Click.

Bellamy sat there, numb. Raven resisted the urge to figit and waited. 

“She does this every day?” Raven nodded. “And you’ve known for how long?”

“A couple of months, but-”

 _“Months?_ You’ve known for _MONTHS_ ?” There he was. And although she’d braced herself for this, Raven still hated when he became the dropship, complete dick version of Bellamy. “ _Why_ didn’t you tell me? _MONTHS,_ Raven! Months of _nightmares_ and, and _nothing_ , and thinking she was fucking dead. I thought she was _dead..._ ” he choked out.

“What’s going on?” Monty and Harper stood at the door. Raven ignored them.

 _“Exactly,_ Bellamy. You’re a fucking mess. If I told you four months ago that she’s alive when I didn’t know her situation, didn’t know if she was _safe,_ that she’d even live to the next day - who in their right mind would tell you?” 

“Who’s alive?” said Emori, peering over Harper’s shoulder from the hallway.

“What gives you the goddamn _right?_ I deserved to-”

 _“Of course_ you deserved to know! You think I don’t feel guilty about this? Keeping this from you?”

“Who’s fighting? I brought algae,” said Murphy, who’d just appeared out of nowhere, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Shut _up,_ Murphy,” Raven and Bellamy snapped at the same time.

“Why’d you tell me today?” asked Bellamy, turning back to her, suddenly completely drained. “Why today of all days? What changed?”

“Did something have to change?” said Raven weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“What changed, Raven.”

“What are they fighting about?” Murphy mock whispered to Monty. 

“You know who,” muttered Harper in awe. “I think she’s alive.” 

“It’s…” Raven hesitated, biting her lip. “The little girl-”

“Madi?”

“No the other one, Nell. She’s a baby.”

“But what does that have to do with you telling me…” Bellamy looked like someone had just swung a blunt object into his head. She could practically hear him doing the math. Raven nodded in confirmation and hugged her arms tighter, tears welling up. _“No,”_ Bellamy moaned.

“She’s yours. I just found out yesterday, I swear.

“ _Fuck.”_

“It didn’t even cross my mind that- I mean, I didn’t even know you two-”

“The night before she took the nightblood,” Bellamy said, numb. “That’s when...you know.” The past few months refocused in her mind. Everything he’d done since leaving the ground made complete sense. Raven knew then that she was looking at a broken man. He’d lost everything.

“She has brown eyes,” her voice broke, “and a little nose like a berry. And hair that’s getting blonder every day. That’s what Clarke said. And she said her first word yesterday - your name - which is how I found out.”

“Nell?”

“Short for Penelope, after some Greek story, I think she said.” Bellamy groaned and dropped his head to his palms once more. She didn’t think she’d ever heard a more pitiful sound. 

“Can someone please enlighten us on the plot of this soap opera?” drawled Murphy, ignoring their prior command to be quiet. Raven turned to the doorway, where now all members of Spacekru had gathered.

“Clarke’s alive because of the nightblood. She’s been calling in every day. And she’s found another nightblood girl and had a baby,” she swallowed, “who is Bellamy’s.” Bellamy groaned again from his hands.

“Holy shit,” whispered Monty.

“That’s what I said,” Raven shrugged helplessly.

“Can’t we call her back?” said Emori, appalled. Raven was already shaking her head.

“The Ark can receive messages but can’t send them back. We can hear her, but that’s it. I’ve tried everything.”

Murphy let out a long whistle. “Should’ve known a fucking death wave couldn’t kill off Clarke Griffin. And they call me the cockroach.” There was a pause as everyone, even Bellamy, stared at him. “What? It’s true.” 

Bellamy let out a huff, which turned into another, and suddenly he was full on laughing, clutching his stomach. Which made Harper laugh, and Monty, who turned out had a wheezing sort of laugh, and it was just a domino effect from there. 

They laughed and laughed at the fact that not even the end of the world could kill Clarke Griffin.

…

“Any time now…” said Bellamy. Today they had all crammed into Raven’s workspace to hear Clarke’s call. 

_“Hello? It’s Clarke.”_ Murphy let out a cheer, only to be aggressively shushed by everyone in the room. _“-beautiful day. The sun is shining, the water is a perfect temperature, and Madi and I caught enough fish to last us five days last night. I decided that today would be a vacation, so I’m currently sunbathing on a rock with Penelope and drawing you guys. Can you say hi to dad?”_

 _“Da-da!”_ Penelope squealed loudly into the receiver and a few of them clapped their hands over their ears. Bellamy’s eyes widened and a goofy smile split his across his features.

 _“Sorry. I forgot how excited she gets when I ask her to say that. Madi’s swimming, still acting out the Octavia story. I think - yep, she was just dragged underwater by the snake. Aaaaand she’s back. Now she has a stick?”_ Clarke sighed. _“Do you know what today is?”_

“Unity day,” said Bellamy absentmindedly, still grinning.

 _“Unity day,”_ confirmed Clarke. _“Tonight I’ll tell Madi the story of Becca Pramheda and the clans. I think she’ll like it. She usually likes my stories. I figure that’s the best I can do for Unity day. Can’t exactly drink moonshine and play drinking games like the dropship days. I hope you’re celebrating too, Bellamy. Live for me, okay? We will meet again. Griffin and Griffin-Blake out.”_

Everyone looked at each other, beaming. Even Echo’s eyes twinkled with happiness. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?” she said, defensive. “Penelope Griffin-Blake. It’s cute.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Raven fix the radio? What will Bellamy do when Clarke's calls aren't all sunshine and rainbows? And that Becho tag...girl, what?! Tune in on January 3rd for Chapter 4! 
> 
> In the meantime, comments literally give me serotonin. Also, go listen to the song "Rivers and Roads" by the Head and the Heart. It's comfort food in song form.


	4. We Will Not Relate

_So if you don’t know what to make of this,_

_Then we will not relate._

_\- The Head and the Heart_

_1,342 days after, Eden_

Nell was almost three by the time Madi had a full grasp on English. If Clarke thought she talked a lot before, it was nothing compared to now. Madi asked her to tell and retell stories of her friends and would then act them out for Nell, who always clapped in delight. Everything ranging from her life on the Ark to the dropship to ALIE - Madi wanted to know it all. 

Her enthusiasm for Clarke’s storytelling slowly leaked into Nell, who started demanding a story before bed every night. Their love for her stories was so strong, Clarke began illustrating them.

She started with Octavia, since that was Madi’s favorite. She drew multiple versions of the young warrior: her holding one of Lincoln’s lilies, her riding her horse, her with the war paint as she prepared for the conclave. 

Clarke held nothing back. Life was too short to sugar coat everything, and she wanted her girls to grow up strong and resilient in a world that would try to destroy them every day.

She struggled with that thought. The parasite of loneliness in her chest grew stronger each day she didn’t receive an answer on her radio, turned to call for a phantom Monty to come look at a new plant she’d discovered, or navigated parenting two girls with no outside guidance. She yearned for contact with the people she loved, but she couldn’t ignore the peace she had found without them.

She tried to ignore the pinprick of _when they come back, all your problems will too_ at the base of her mind.

Clarke should have seen it coming then, when it all reached a boiling point. 

...

That night, she chose to tell the tale of Roan and the Ice Queen. To prepare for the story, she’d drawn the Azgedan prince himself, along with his mother, and, of course, Lexa. 

“Once upon a time-”

“Claaarke, we know it’s real. You don’t have to say that every time,” Madi whined from her bed. Clarke fixed her with a steely gaze until she mumbled a small, “sorry.” Nell drug a blanket up to her chin, her curly blonde ringlets splayed out on her pillow. They’d recently moved another small bed into their cabin for her. It made the space more cramped, but they couldn’t imagine it any differently.

Clarke started again, “Once upon a time, there lived an evil queen. She ruled the northern lands, where the mountains made the air cold and the ground slick with white snow. The rest of the clans knew her as the Ice Queen and her clan as Azgeda,” she paused to hold up the drawing of Nia, then continued, “She had a son. His name was Roan and he was not evil like his mother. He was just and brave.” 

She stared at her depiction of her friend and remembered his icy demeanor, carved no doubt from decades of hard lessons and brutal training. She’d never said goodbye or even gave him a proper funeral during the end of the world. She hoped that this, telling his story, gave his memory peace. _May we meet again, old friend._ She flipped the page around to show her two apt listeners.

“Because he wasn’t like her, the Ice Queen banished prince Roan and he was tossed from his home to live alone,” Nell gasped quietly, brown eyes wide. Clarke smiled, “It was around that time that rumors began to spread across the land. Rumors of a person who claimed they were the commander of death itself-”

 _“ Wanheda,”_ whispered Madi. Clarke nodded.

“Whoever killed _Wanheda_ would become the commander of death. Roan knew the Ice Queen would want her, so he set off in search of this legend. He knew that if he captured _Wanheda,_ his mother would welcome him back into Azgeda with open arms,” Clarke paused for dramatic effect, and swore both girls leaned in a little closer. She lowered her voice conspirationally, “But there was another leader, _Lexa kom Trikru,_ who wanted _Wanheda_ alive.”

“Why?” 

“Because,” Clarke swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to speak, “because Lexa loved the woman known as _Wanheda_ very much. She didn’t want her to get hurt.” She pulled out the final drawing, the one of Lexa, and let herself feel the loss. “Lexa knew Roan was a good man. She convinced him to bring her _Wanheda._ So he did.” Her voice was so soft now, and the fire from the candle burned low. Nell’s eyes drooped as she tried to keep them open. 

“Did they live happily ever after?” Madi yawned and Clarke got up to tuck her in. She pressed her lips to her forehead.

“We’ll finish the story tomorrow. Sleep well, my _natblida.”_ She kissed Nell too and backed slowly toward the door so as not to disturb either one.

She made her way to the fire pit and sat down on one of the logs. She picked up the radio she’d left there earlier in the day. 

“I know this is useless and that both of these people are dead,” she began, taking a shuddering breath and staring up at the stars, “but I’m going to say it anyway.” 

Clarke cleared her throat, but couldn’t stop her voice from coming out scratchy, “Roan, I’m sorry I never said goodbye. I’m sorry you died in a fight that didn’t even matter at the end of it. I told Madi and Nell about you tonight,” she sniffed, “I told them that you were good. Despite it all, you were fair. And I’m sorry.” She let go of the call button and felt something wet roll down her cheek.

“I also told them about you, Lexa,” her voice was so small now, trying to hold back the flood of emotions from tearing through her. “Not much. I- I couldn’t. But I told them you loved me.” She choked back another sob. “You shouldn’t have died like that - a fluke. A bullet meant for me. And I’m so sorry,” she trailed off.

“I found forgiveness in pieces. It started when I found the valley- before that, things were...bad. Worse than bad. And I thought I deserved that. Maybe I did, but it’s different now. Madi changed that. Having Nell changed everything.”

She let go of the button and listened to the forest surrounding her home before pressing it once more.

“I’m not sure who I’ll be when everyone comes home. I can’t help thinking we’ll go back to what we were, that people will start dying again. I’m not that person anymore, I can’t be. I have two _daughters_ now who need me and who I need to be better than what I was. Sometimes…”

She stopped, her throat tight, then whispered, “sometimes I don’t want this to end. Sometimes I don’t want everyone to come back.” A broken noise escaped her throat and echoed in the silence of the camp. She released the radio, letting it fall to the bed of grass at her feet.

Clarke followed it and lay on her back, closing her eyes. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to remember what it felt like to be held. She stayed in that position, awake, until the dusk broke through the trees. When it did, she rubbed her eyes and stood up. Then, she walked back toward her daughters, toward her life.

_1,343 days after, The Ring_

Bellamy needed to punch something. It just so happened Murphy was there - with an unfortunately timed joke - for the picking. 

“Bellamy, stop!” He heard Monty’s voice in the distance, as if he were underwater. He heard others run in, shouting.

“Hey! _Hey!_ It’s just Murphy!” He felt a hand on his shoulder and he pushed it away, pulling his arm back to launch another blow to Murphy’s face. Before he could release it, his back hit the ground and he felt sharp pressure to his jugular. Echo sat on his chest, glaring at him as she held a knife to his throat. He caught his breath, panting as he returned her glare. He slowly raised his hands in surrender.

Echo loosened her knife and stood up, holding out a hand. He ignored it, propping himself up on his elbows. “His silver tongue is his strongest weapon, at best. Better to take this out on someone who can fight back.”

“Jeez, thanks for the compliment,” groaned Murphy from his spot on the floor. Emori moved to help him to his feet, her face carefully schooled to hide her laughter.

“What’s this about, Bellamy?” said Echo, pointedly ignoring Murphy.

“Nothing.” She quirked an eyebrow. He knew she didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He stood up and raised his fists. “Let’s go. No weapons.” 

Echo narrowed her eyes, then threw her knife to the side. It clanged against the floor. They began to circle each other, stances defensive. 

“You can’t hide your feelings, Bellamy.” He scoffed.

“You’re one to talk, _spy.”_ Her face remained neutral, revealing nothing. It infuriated him.

“Clarke would want you to be happy.” He snapped, rushing forward and grabbing for her arms. She side-stepped him easily and hooked her arm around his neck. He gripped her and ducked forward, slamming her into the floor. Before he could pin her, she used the momentum of her legs to jump to her feet. 

_“You don’t talk about her,”_ he growled. Echo smirked.

“Why not? She’s clearly content down there without _you.”_ Bellamy saw white as he struck forward, blindly swinging. He felt pain erupt near his collar bone before the world went dark.

…

When he came to, he was in his bed. It took a second for the pain to hit him. He groaned.

“Sorry.” Echo sat in a chair a few feet from his mattress, studying him with her calculating eyes. She wasn’t all sharp edges and revenge though - and Bellamy was pretty sure he was the only person who saw softness behind the façade. Even now, he could tell that she meant her apology.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You can talk to me, you know.”

“Can I?” his words came out harsher than he meant them to. “You’ve betrayed me more times than I can count. You murdered Gina. You tried to kill my _sister,_ my _friends.”_ Echo shrugged and Bellamy ground his teeth.

“I was loyal to Azgeda then. Now I am loyal to you.” He froze, considering her words.

“To me?”

“You saved my life,” she did not shift her eyes. “For that, I owe you.” He wanted to hate her. He wanted to continue to barely acknowledge her presence until he reached the ground, then forget about her. But...he understood her. Echo was loyal. She reminded him of another person he knew, a girl who did everything for the people she loved.

He must’ve been staring at her too intensely, or had shifted closer to her, or seemed more open, or _something,_ because the next thing he knew, Echo’s lips were on his.

The kiss lasted less than three seconds once she realized he wasn’t responding. She stood, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m in love with Clarke,” he said softly. She looked at him once more, tilting her chin down in acknowledgement, and left the room.

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, trying not to think of what had just happened. His hand stopped mid swipe as it dawned on him.

_I’m in love with Clarke._

…

  
  


“You have to get the radio working,” he practically begged.

“You know I can’t.” Raven said, firm. They were in Comms, waiting for Clarke’s next call.

“Raven-”

“Go float yourself, Bellamy. I’ve tried a thousand different things, I don’t know what you want me to say.” Something clicked into place in his brain.

“Float yourself!” Raven looked alarmed.

“I know things are rough right now but I hope you know I didn’t mean-”

“No, Raven, _float yourself,”_ he gripped her shoulders and stared at her. “Shooting stars! Listen, Clarke just needs to believe I’m… _we’re_ alive. So we send a message.” Her eyebrows raised in understanding.

“The last time Clarke saw shooting stars come out of the Ark, it was because hundreds of people were floated to save oxygen.”

“And?”

“And she’ll think one of us is dead, idiot.” Bellamy considered that for a moment.

“Shit.” 

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t there another way we can send a signal?” Raven paced in front of the control panels, thinking.

“We could make missiles,” a voice said from the doorway. Monty was leaning against the frame, arms crossed. Raven shook her head.

“What, so we can destroy Clarke and the girls? Finish the job?” Monty rolled his eyes impatiently.

“Missile as in the shape, not the weapon. We can make them small enough to burn up in the atmosphere before landing, but big enough to cause a spectacle, like a flare. We use some scrap metal, add fuel, and Bob’s your uncle.” Bellamy looked between Raven and Monty as they battled silently. Raven sighed angrily.

“That sounds solid to me,” Bellamy spoke cautiously, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we already don’t have enough fuel to get to the ground, let alone power additional metal messenger pigeons.”

“So?”

“Bellamy, we need every drop of that fuel!”

“You just said we don’t have enough to get to the ground anyway!”

“Yes, but-”

“Bellamy’s right,” said Monty, moving further into the room. “There isn’t enough to get to the ground. With or without those flares, we’ll still be stuck up here. At least with this, Clarke can have hope.” They both looked to Raven, who still appeared unconvinced. 

“She saved our life,” said Bellamy. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of guilt as she glared at him.

“Fine. Let’s do this.”

…

Outside the room, John Murphy sat on the ground, listening. In his mind, he pictured all of them with gray hair, huddled around the dinner table eating another version of algae. He shuddered. _That cannot happen._

What was the point of letting Clarke know they were alive when they wouldn’t ever be able to return to Earth anyway?

  
  


_1,825 days after, The Ring_

“John’s gonna open the airlock,” Emori panted, leaning against one of the walls of the common room. When nobody moved, she yelled, “Are you deaf? He’s gonna float things for Clarke to see!” 

“But why would he do that?” Harper asked the question they’d all been thinking. Emori let out a frustrated growl, clutching her hair.

“Because he doesn’t want us to have to waste fuel on the flares! She’s gonna think we’re dead!” Bellamy was already gone, sprinting across the Ring. He skidded around a corner in time to see Murphy push the release button to the airlock.

 _“Murphy, no!”_ But it was too late. Bellamy’s heart plummeted as the airlock opened, releasing the contents to the void.

“You idiot!” yelled Raven, who’d ran from Comms. “We already launched the flares.”

“Because of you, she’s going to think we’re _dead.”_

“Because of you, we’re never getting to the ground!” yelled Murphy. “Do you even know what today is? Year five, Bellamy!”

 _“Ground to Ark, come in,”_ Clarke’s voice emitted from the speakers in Raven’s office and echoed down the hallway to where they stood. _“Ground to Ark,_ come in!” She sounded panicked. _“Bellamy, come in!”_ He was gonna kill Murphy. 

The man in question flinched, backing up. 

“Wait, look!” Monty was at the viewing window, grinning. Bellamy watched as green light lit up Earth’s atmosphere. “Bob’s your uncle.”

“I hate it when you say that,” muttered Raven, though there was no contempt in her voice. The green faded to black and the Earth looked just as lifeless.

All they could do now was wait.

_1,825 days after, Eden_

Today marked five years since _Praimfaya._ All day, Clarke, Nell, and Madi searched the sky for signs of a rocket. Before they knew it, the sun was setting and their necks were sore. But the girls were too excited to sleep, so Clarke declared that night a slumber party with the stars. They moved their blankets and pillows near the lake, where the trees wouldn’t block their view.

“Mom, look! Shooting stars!” Nell pointed to the darkening sky and Clarke looked up. Sure enough, several meteors scattered into the atmosphere. Something about how they moved slowly, taking their time to erupt, tickled the back of her brain.

“It didn’t work. They didn’t see the flares.” Raven spoke from behind her, staring at the sky. Clarke jumped and moved toward Nell.

“Mom? What is it?” 

“‘It’s not a meteor shower, it’s a funeral,’” Clarke muttered, taking in the younger version of her friend. Dropship Raven nodded solemnly. Her heart dropped to her stomach, “Oh my go- _no.”_ She scrambled for the radio.

“Ground to Ark, come in,” she waited. “Ground to Ark, _come in!”_

“What’s happening?” Madi put a hand on her shoulder. 

_“Bellamy!_ Come in!” Clarke yelled, frantic. Radio silence. 

“You’re scaring me,” said Nell and Clarke turned to her, eyes wide with tears.

“He’s- I’m-” She couldn’t get the words out, instead opening her arms to both girls. Both curled into her sides, gripping her as sobs wracked her body. _There’s still hope that he’s alive,_ a voice soothed her, _if anything, this proves that they made it._

Then, the sky lit up green. The three broke apart and looked up as two more green flares lit up before the inky darkness painted the horizon once more.

Clarke’s mouth hung open as her mind tried to catch up with itself. The funeral and the flares couldn’t be a coincidence. Someone was trying to send a message. The flares were _green._ Monty.

A smile split across Clarke’s face.

“They’re alive!” She said, then louder, “They’re alive!” She laughed and hugged a very confused Madi and Nell back to her. They giggled at the rapid kisses she gave them across their foreheads. Another realization hit her: _They know I’m alive. They can hear me._

Without looking, she let go of the girls and felt for the radio, still gazing at the sky. In her excitement, she heard a clatter and a splash. Clarke froze.

“Was that…” Madi asked hesitantly. Nell stepped up to the edge of the dark lake and pouted.

“I can’t see! It’s too dark outside.”

First thing in the morning, the girls searched the lake. It was Clarke who found it, half buried in the sand. Water poured out from every crevice. She tried pushing buttons, turning the knobs, listening for the familiar static. There was nothing.

The radio was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale will be posted on January 9th. We will meet again.
> 
> Until then, give me some serotonin by commenting! Ask questions, tell me how you think this will end, give me one word to describe how you felt after reading this chapter, etc.


	5. Rivers and Roads

_ Rivers and roads, _

_ Rivers and roads,  _

_ Rivers ‘til I reach you. _

_ \- The Head and the Heart _

_ 9 days before, The Mansion _

When he awoke, Clarke was gone.

His vision blurred the empty space in the bed beside him as the memories from the night before flooded back in. His heart picked up tempo as he remembered the feeling of  _ her  _ and the intensity of her hooded gaze, the way his name fell from her lips. It felt like a dream - reinforced by the fact that this  _ had  _ been a dream of his, one he’d tried to suppress to no avail.

He wondered if she’d thought about them too. She’d been the one to initiate last night, so it must’ve crossed her mind. They hadn’t said much more than each others’ names and soft compliments before falling asleep wrapped up together in their bubble.

Her absence brought reality crashing back.  _ Nightblood, end of the world. Right. _

He picked himself up, forcing all thoughts of Clarke’s lips firmly from his mind.

_ 1,835 days after, The Ring _

It’d been 10 days since Clarke’s panicked voice screamed for him to respond. 10 days of radio silence. She’d called every single day for five years - why had she stopped.

Bellamy’s heart whispered  _ what if _ s to him -  _ what if Monty’s missiles had made it to the ground? What if Clarke actually thought he was dead, had given up hope? What if she was dead? _

_ “The only way we’re gonna get through this, is if you use this,”  _ he felt the ghost of her finger graze his temple.

_ “I’ve got you for that,”  _ he’d said softly, smiling sadly. Even then, he felt her loss.

By all intents and purposes, Clarke was gone. He couldn’t know if she was alive or dead or somewhere in between, but her voice - her being - had disappeared from his life on the ring. And he had to move on.

So he picked up training with Echo. He felt his strength and agility return from his years of lethargy as she kicked, jabbed, and fought her way past his slower reflexes. The others watched from time to time, hedging bets on how many hits he or Echo could get in. He couldn’t care less about the competition aspect. Instead, he used training to distract himself - a jab to Echo’s left,  _ Clarke,  _ a swing at her side,  _ Nell,  _ a swipe of his leg,  _ Madi.  _

They didn’t talk about the kiss, though he could tell Echo was still thrown off by him. Where they’d talked easily before were now awkward silences. It got to the point where even Murphy noticed.

“Did you fuck, or what?” All seven were seated at the dinner table, forcing down algae. Murphy was looking between Bellamy and Echo. The others followed his gaze. Bellamy cleared his throat, glaring at him.

“Stay out of it, Murphy,” he snapped. Echo looked extremely uncomfortable at the prolonged staring. 

“You haven’t spoken one word to each other for months now. What gives?”

“Really, John?” scoffed Emori, peeking at Bellamy, “They haven’t spoken for a  _ year.”  _ Bellamy and Echo groaned.

“Either you two did the dirty or Echo murdered someone you love again, and,” he feigned counting everyone at the table, “all of us are accounted for, so…”

“Jesus, Murphy…” muttered Monty.

“What?” he said, mocking offense. “There isn’t anything better to do on this god forsaken ship. Y’know, now that we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives.”

“Murphy, that’s enough,” snapped Raven. The room stilled. Murphy stood up, pushing out his chair.

“Fine. If you need me, don’t.” He stalked off.

“John-!” called Emori, standing. Echo put a hand on her shoulder.

“Leave him.” Her face was hard. They ate in silence for a few minutes, then:

“What  _ did  _ happen between you guys?”

“C’mon man-”

_ “Monty-” _

“Really? Were you not here two minutes ago or-”

“There was a misunderstanding,” interrupted Echo, “on my part. I thought Bellamy...I thought you might have feelings for me.” Bellamy sighed as the others openly gaped at him, some in disgust, some in surprise.

“What about Clarke, Bellamy? What about Nell, your  _ child?”  _ Raven glared at him. 

Echo shook her head as Bellamy explained, “I didn’t- I don’t have feelings for Echo, obviously.” He gestured to the room and the current unpleasant experience he had somehow found himself in. “She kissed me and that was it.”

Raven narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “But-”

“It’s always been Clarke, Raven, you know that,” he held her gaze until she nodded, resigned. She then turned to Echo, who now appeared guarded, with a scowl.

“If you do  _ anything  _ that puts those kids’ happiness in jeopardy, I’ll float you myself.” 

_ 2,093 days after, Eden _

Clarke gave up on trying to fix the radio after a month. One afternoon, she’d set down the device on a table and walked away. She hadn’t touched it since. 

She curled into herself that next month, fixating on Monty’s signal and the floating funeral. When it happened, she’d rejoiced that her friends lived - they made it. Now, doubt slithered in and took residence at the forefront of her mind. What if the green flares had been meant not as a “we’re alive” but as a farewell? And the faux shooting stars a symbol of them never being able to return to her? Why else would they have sent those signs on the day they were all meant to return?

As the sun rotated above and below the horizon, she went through the motions of life - she woke, made breakfast, hunted for food, helped clean, and tucked in Madi and Nell. Her fingers froze when given a pencil and paper, unable to create anything. She hadn’t told a bedtime story for weeks.

If Madi or Nell noticed, they didn’t say anything. At least not for the first few months.

Clarke was planning on a quiet evening by the fire when she felt something tug the hem of her shirt. She looked down to see Nell holding the radio up to her in an offering. She felt a stab of guilt as she met her daughter’s eyes and immediately looked away - she reminded Clarke too much of what was lost, of who she’d never see again.

“I fixed it,” said Nell shyly. Clarke accepted the radio and inspected it. Around its base wrapped a small ribbon and some gauze from her med kit. Her lips twitched upward. Encouraged, Nell added, “You can call dad again.”

Another stab of guilt. Clarke nodded in spite of herself and offered her side to her daughter, who accepted gladly. Clarke took a deep breath, “Okay. Should we call him together?” Nell bobbed her chin excitedly. She pressed the button.

“Bellamy,” she said, voice wavering from misuse. “We’re sorry we haven’t called in awhile. The radio is- it  _ was  _ broken.”

“But I fixed it, dad!” Nell leaned in to the speaker, eyes shining. 

“That’s right, Nell fixed it - she’s more like Raven than us two,” Nell bristled from the compliment, “Anyway, we’re okay. We’re alive. We’ll be here when you’re ready to come back down, right?”

“Yep.”

“May we meet again,” she released the useless button, feeling a weight lift from her nonetheless. This time when she smiled at her youngest, it was genuine.

_ May we meet again. _

_ 2,199 days after, Eden _

“Bellamy, if you can hear me, you’re alive,” Clarke sat on a rock outlook, holding the still broken radio. “It’s been 2,199 days since Praimfaya. I don’t know why I still do this everyday. Maybe it’s my way of staying sane. Not forgetting who I am. Who I was.” 

She watched as Nell and Madi swam in the lake below and felt her chest warm. They were both so mature now. It was incredible to look at Madi, kind but snarky Madi, and imagine the rugged and distrustful six year old on the edge of the lake all those years ago. It was even more mindblowing to look at Nell, with her blonde braids and gap-toothed smile and brown eyes shining, and remember the nudge she’d felt in that desert. Her girls were beautiful and strong. They were her everything. 

It was amazing, really, how much six years had changed her outlook.

Nell squealed as Madi splashed her and Clarke smiled. “It’s been safe for you to come down for over a year now. Why haven’t you?” Her eyes followed the girls as they finally came out of the lake and lay out on the beach to dry, giggling. “The bunker’s gone silent too. We tried digging them out for a while, but there was too much rubble. I haven’t made contact with them either.

“Anyway, I still have hope. Tell Raven to aim for the one spot of green and you’ll find me. The rest of the planet, from what I’ve seen, basically sucks, so…” 

Suddenly, a large ship broke through the clouds to the east - so sudden that Clarke thought she was hallucinating again. 

“I- I think I see you!” She threw the radio to the ground as she quickly stood, calling to the girls.

…

It wasn’t Bellamy. Or any of her friends, for that matter. A fierce, middle aged woman stared thoughtfully at Clarke, her arms crossed. Diyoza, she was called. There were others too - mostly men - who looked just as rough around the edges. The group had guns, and lots of them. This was the main reason for Clarke leaving Nell in Madi’s care back at their cabin. 

“How many others are there?” asked Diyoza.

“It’s just me and two others,” said Clarke calmly, holding the older woman’s gaze.

“Where the fuck are the other two, then?” an armed man with greasy hair snarled from behind Diyoza. She held up a hand, silencing him.

“And you want peace?” 

“Yes. My people fought for too long only to face another apocalypse. I don’t want to fight anymore,” Clarke eyed Diyoza’s extended stomach, “and I don’t think you do either.”

“Tell us where your friends are, then we’ll talk-”

“Shut up, McCreary,” Diyoza snapped, grey eyes glaring at her comrade. His face remained hardened, though he fell silent again.

“You’re right,” she said, facing Clarke again, “I don’t want a fight if I can avoid it. I don’t know what happened here since we left, but I’d like to hear about it.” Clarke nodded as McCreary sneered in her direction, his slimy gaze raking her body. She ignored him, shuddering, and followed Diyoza.

…

She told them everything - from the first nuclear winter to the Ark to  _ Praimfaya.  _ Her audience, Diyoza, a kind-eyed man named Shaw, and McCreary (for god knows what reason), listened with rapt attention. When she finished, they were silent. Then:

“I believe you.” Clarke’s eyes snapped to Diyoza’s, which appeared sincere in her admission. Beside her, Shaw nodded in agreement. McCreary, probably wisely, remained quiet.

“I can show you around the valley and we’ll share it.”

“Of course, I’ll arrange a small team to go with you. Is there anything my people can do in repayment?”

“Actually,” said Clarke, a smile breaking her stoic features, “there is.”

_ 2,199 days after, Eligius _

_ “Earth to Eligius, come in. Over.”  _

Everyone froze. The first thing they’d done when boarding the alien ship was get the radio working, Monty excitedly proclaiming they could respond with this one. There was no one else aboard, Bellamy and Echo had made sure of it. So why was the ground hailing this presumably empty ship?

_ “We received an alarm that someone’s aboard. We know you’re there. Respond. Over.” _

Raven raised an eyebrow in question at Bellamy, who gave a curt nod. 

“This is Eligius. Over.” Nothing, then:

_ “It’s so good to hear your voice, Raven.”  _ The girl in question slapped a hand over her mouth, backing away from the panel slightly. The others stared wildly at each other, not believing what was happening. It was-

_ “Clarke?” _

_ “I’m okay. We're safe. Is everyone...?” _

“We’re all alive, thanks to you,” Raven laughed wetly, then frowned. “But Clarke, the log said all of these people are criminals-”

_ “Full circle, isn’t it? I’ve made peace with them, Raven, I promise.” _

Murphy leaned in, smirking, “Welcome to team cockroach, Griffin.” They heard a chuckle before Clarke responded.

_ “I’ll believe you when you get down here, Murphy.”  _

“We don’t have enough fuel, and the fuel on this ship is different than-”

_ “Sorry to interrupt,”  _ it was a lower voice than Clarke’s who spoke,  _ “My name is Shaw and I’m the resident mechanic for the ship you’re currently aboard. We have an additional pod you can use, so listen closely…” _

...

As Raven and Emori listened to Shaw’s instructions, Bellamy looked around at his friends - his _family._ Harper had tears in her eyes, Monty a lopsided grin, and Echo looked at him kindly. Even Murphy had a small smirk. Bellamy swallowed thickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

“She’s alive. They’re alive,” he was trying to convince himself more so than his friends. A pit of doubt formed in his stomach. “But, what if-'' Murphy groaned. Echo was already shaking her head. But it was Harper who spoke next.

“She is your Earth, your Ground, and you her moon,” she said, smiling softly. “She still loves you, I know it.” The others murmured in agreement. 

He looked at Harper, who looked so sincere he couldn’t  _ not  _ believe her words, and dipped his chin in thanks. Monty clapped a hand on his shoulder in support.

“Let’s go home.”

_ 2,200 days after, Eden _

Clarke watched with bated breath as the door to the small rocket opened with a rush of compressed air. A hand pushed it out, and the person attached to the hand followed. Her position at the tree line wasn’t ideal in terms of proximity, but she couldn’t mistake him for anyone else. She felt a thrill rush through her abdomen - pure and unadulterated anticipation bubbled there. 

Because of course Bellamy was the first one out. Her lips twitched at the memory.

_ “If the air’s toxic, we’re all dead anyway.” _

She watched as he descended from the ship and others followed - first Monty, who held out a hand to Harper, then Emori and Echo, then- no one else emerged as the five stood on solid ground for the first time in six long years.

She didn’t realize she had frozen in place until Madi and Nell sprinted from the trees, screaming and laughing. Clarke let out a watery chuckle and slowly stepped into the sunlight. The scene unfolded like honey, slow and sweet. Madi, with longer legs, reached him first, jumping and wrapping her arms around his neck. Then Nell hit his lower half, hugging his waist. 

She watched as his shoulders shook, as he buried his face into Madi’s dark braids, as one hand gripped her fiercely and the other found Nell. 

Clarke was dimly aware that the others were there and were calling out her name as she began to walk, as if in a trance, out from the shade of the trees. A presence brushed against her right arm. She turned her head to see Wells beaming at her, tilting his head toward the dropship. Her heart seized at the sight of her lost friend, who was trailing her toward salvation once more. Clarke grinned back at him as she continued to pad across the soft grass of the meadow.

_ “Just casual,” _ she mouthed at him, recalling their previous conversation. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation, and she winked. She turned back to Bellamy, Madi, and Nell and approached hesitantly, before stopping altogether a few meters from her favorite people.

Still in the honeyed time, his face lifted and he lowered Madi to the ground, his eyes blinking in shock. He smiled kindly at her before turning his gaze to Nell, who looked at him as if he were her own personal star. 

Clarke watched as Bellamy knelt at her feet and reached, hesitantly, to cup Nell’s little face in both palms. His thumbs brushed her freckled cheeks and she smiled shyly up at him. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. Clarke waited.

…

This time when he met her blue gaze, it was hard  _ not  _ to look away. She was no longer a sun, difficult to bear witness to. Instead, she was his ground, his home, and he never wanted to look away ever again. 

He breathed in the sight of her. Her hair was shorter, cut to her shoulders with tiny braids sprinkled among the curls and his fingers twitched at the ghost of them. Her face was smooth from years of rest and peace and it struck him how truly alone she had been, and how that had to have been simultaneously the hardest and best thing to happen to her. Her lips parted slightly and he realized she was taking him in just as hungrily as he was her. 

Suddenly, the few meters between them felt too far.

Then, she’s in his arms and he’s thrown momentarily to their reunion after she’d escaped Mount Weather. But this was so much more than those first few months on the ground. It’s two people who can only exist together, two souls ripped apart for six years colliding, two magnets compelled. They were not the same people they were six years ago. He was no longer the asshole turned self-sacrificial junkie. She was no longer the desperate leader turned  _ Wanheda.  _

He is Bellamy and she Clarke, together as only Bellamy and Clarke could ever be.

Bellamy sank to his knees, pulling Clarke down with him, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of berries and earth. He clutched her to him with everything he had as he cried soundless tears. He felt her shift and he reluctantly let her pull away, her hands resting on the back of his neck. Her eyes were as read as his must be.

He’d dreamt of this moment, of what he would say and do. Now, he could muster no thoughts but  _ Clarke, Clarke, Clarke. _

“Before you even start, you have nothing to be sorry for,” she read his mind, chastising weakly. He cleared his throat, pieces of his practiced speech floating back to the forefront of his brain.

“Clarke, I’m so  _ sorry-”  _ She wouldn’t let him finish. 

Instead, her lips crashed to his and he found himself forgetting all thoughts and coherency but this. _ Clarke. _ The amount of nights he’d lain awake trying to remember her face, the feeling of her lips - his brain repeated her name like a prayer as he pulled her closer, his thumbs kneading her waist religiously. The last six years melted away to stories yet to tell.

If they’d been paying any attention whatsoever, they would’ve seen Monty and Harper beaming with knowing gazes. Or Madi covering her eyes and Nell more than making up for the two of them. Echo and Emori were trying and failing to avoid staring at them, grinning. They’d have noticed that more people - Eligius crew - meandered into the meadow, curious.

When Bellamy and Clarke broke apart, it was because their daughters joined their embrace on the grass. Where the Ark had been dead and grey, this was bright and full of life. As he sat there, held together by Clarke and Nell and Madi, Bellamy felt true happiness for the first time in his life.

He was home.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this first multi-chapter story of mine. Please leave a comment or kudos! Any feedback helps me when I write new fics.
> 
> May we meet again.


End file.
